


Rangers and Dragons

by AsperJasper



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Gen, The dragon AU nobody asked for, and that is my only complaint about these books, but he insisted on soft and ambiguous fantasy instead of just going for it, if john flanagan wasn't a coward this would have been canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-03 19:54:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20458562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsperJasper/pseuds/AsperJasper
Summary: People knew the Ranger Corps made use of dragons. It was one of the reasons they were so scared of them. Rangers appeared in times of trouble wrapped in their shifting cloaks on the backs of dragons whose wings block out the sun like a cloud. The dragons watched what was going on, the fire behind their eyes a dull smolder until the Ranger on their back leaned in close to their head and whispered something quiet. Once that quiet word was shared, the enemy was bathed in flame.It only takes one Ranger to end any conflict. A single Ranger is smart enough to end almost anything with normal tactics. They can see the whole picture and make a plan that works almost every time.And when they can’t, they whisper that quiet word close to their dragon’s head, and the dragon takes care of the rest.





	Rangers and Dragons

People knew the Ranger Corps made use of dragons. It was one of the reasons they were so scared of them. Rangers appeared in times of trouble wrapped in their shifting cloaks on the backs of dragons whose wings block out the sun like a cloud. The dragons watched what was going on, the fire behind their eyes a dull smolder until the Ranger on their back leaned in close to their head and whispered something quiet. Once that quiet word was shared, the enemy was bathed in flame.

It only takes one Ranger to end any conflict. A single Ranger is smart enough to end almost anything with normal tactics. They can see the whole picture and make a plan that works almost every time.

And when they can’t, they whisper that quiet word close to their dragon’s head, and the dragon takes care of the rest.

Dragons weren’t supposed to behave the way these did. Travelers bring back tales from Picta of wild dragons dropping from the sky and eviscerating villages in a single night, untamed and virtually unstoppable. Skandian raids had been easily stopped by a Ranger swooping down from the sky, the northern giants terrified of the creatures they knew could take out an entire wolfship with one breath.

But the dragons that bear the Rangers on their backs aren’t the same wild animals those other countries know. These dragons tilt their heads and listen intelligently to what their Rangers have to say. They don’t attack unless that secret, quiet word is whispered to them. The Rangers don’t seem afraid of them, even the ones that aren’t their own. In the rare case that more than one Ranger is in the same place with both dragons also present, they seem to greet the dragons with the same respect and even friendliness that they show to the other human.

Will had only seen Ranger Halt’s dragon twice before. When he was just out and about around Castle Redmont, he had a horse. A small horse, almost more of a pony, although it did seem to match his own height.

Once, though, Will had been in the tree in the courtyard late at night when the moon had suddenly disappeared. He’d looked up expecting to see a cloud, and instead, he’d seen massive wings, stretching out across the sky and covering the moon and stars. It was dark enough Will couldn’t even tell what color the dragon was, but he knew it had to be the Ranger’s.

Once more, during the day, Will had been just outside the castle walls, collecting water as an excuse to get away from his wardmates for even a moment, when there had been a cacophonous explosion of birds from the forest, and in their midst was a larger shape Will couldn’t quite identify, until the massive green wings unfurled and the dragon snapped up into the air. It moved quickly and with a grace completely unlike anything Will had ever seen, rising into the air faster than the birds with two flaps of its wings before turning and speeding away. Will could barely make out a tiny human figure on its back with a cloak streaming out behind it.

So Will had arrived at Halt’s cabin expecting the dragons to be perhaps nothing more than more impressive, weaponized transportation, like a horse if a horse could ever be so powerful. If Halt used a horse for the more domestic duties, surely a dragon was merely the equivalent of a warhorse.

But for the first few months of being the Ranger’s apprentice, he didn’t see the massive green dragon he knew belonged to Halt, let alone a dragon of his own. There was a horse for him, even smaller than Halt’s, who didn’t even have a name. He learned to ride, to build his own saddle, to put the saddle on. How to clean the hooves, and he learned a few basic commands.

He began to think that perhaps apprentices didn’t get their own dragons, and he wasn’t quite sure that he was even disappointed. Both times he’d seen Halt’s dragon, he’d been afraid for reasons he couldn’t quite articulate. He knew that a Ranger’s dragon wouldn’t hurt him unless he was a threat to Araluen, but there was something terrifying about the scale of it, the way it moved, the simple knowledge of how powerful the creature was and how much damage it was capable of.

And then he and Halt began walking towards what was obviously a set destination that Halt wouldn’t explain. They didn’t take the horses.

The first thing Will noticed out of the ordinary was the smell. Smoke was drifting towards them, from far enough away that he couldn’t see it but from a fire big enough that the smell was very strong.

Then the signs of something being near, something big. Gashes on trees like the marks a bear left from sharpening its claws, but so much bigger. Pits in the trail that he would have thought were simply puddles if he hadn’t been training to see the bigger picture for these last months. Now he noticed that there were uniform pits spread on the trail. That each pit had a series of smaller divots beyond them, evenly sized and shaped.

That they weren’t pits from rainfall.

They were footprints.

They were dragon prints.

He was too absorbed in his realization to catch the faint smile on Halt’s face when he said that out loud.

Their destination was a crumbling stone structure that may have once been a watchtower. An old man came out to greet them. He introduced himself as Old Bob, and on his shoulder was the smallest dragon Will had ever imagined, barely a flash of blue against his white hair.

A dragon the size of a large dog was behind him, a red one that had a crest of something like feathers running down its long neck, wings stretched up vertically from its back. It looked at Will curiously and the old man laughed. Will felt like the red dragon had shared a joke he couldn’t hear, even though he was sure that wasn’t what had happened.

Old Bob led them down a smaller path to another clearing, and the first thing Will saw there was the massive green dragon he’d seen Halt riding.

The second was a silver dragon, much bigger than the red one he’d just seen but much smaller than the green one next to it. More than big enough to ride, and more than big enough to be intimidating. This dragon had a similar crest of feathers to the red one but also had three horns sprouting from the top of his head, forming a triangle that could probably make a pretty efficient weapon if tilted at a head-butting target.

The silver dragon looked at him, tilting his head, and Will saw for the first time what people meant when they described the fire in a dragon's eyes. Its eyes were bright, ice blue, and somehow behind them, Will could see a flickering flame. Thin tendrils of smile rose from the dragon’s nostrils, and when he opened his jaw and snapped it shut again, sparks flew from his lips like his teeth were made of flint.

Will was so caught up in watching the relatively small silver dragon that he didn’t notice Halt stepping close to his dragon’s head, pressing his forehead against the dragon’s and whispering something almost inaudible, like he’d missed the dragon terribly and was relieved to be reunited with it.

“Give ‘im a squirrel,” Old Bob said. “He’ll be your friend forever then.” Will looked back over at the old man and saw him gently pulling a freshly killed squirrel out of the mouth of the tiny blue dragon that was still on his shoulder, somehow looking very pleased with itself.

Nervously, Will took the squirrel and offered it to the silver dragon, stretching his hand out as far as he could and closing his eyes as the dragon stretched its head out towards him.

He was roughly pulled forward, barely able to stop himself from falling directly into the dragon.

Old Bob laughed.

“We call ‘im Tug ‘cause of that trick. Always pulling at the hand that feeds him, he is.”

The tiny blue dragon flapped its almost transparent wings and disappeared into the woods, reemerging with another squirrel in its mouth and dropping it at Will’s feet.

Will could have sworn it winked at him.

“Give him another one, Will,” Halt said quietly, now leaning against his dragon’s side. Will picked up the squirrel and stretched it out towards the dragon, this time determinedly keeping his eyes open.

The silver dragon arched his neck and daintily bit the squirrel, and as soon as Will relaxed, sure he would be yanked forward again, the dragon pulled just as hard as he had the first time. This time, Will fell, barely catching himself on the dragon’s horns.

There was a flash of light, and Will couldn’t tell if it was behind his eyes or had been visible.

Well, what did you do that for?

He heard it clear as day inside his head, like one of his own thoughts except completely foreign. It didn’t belong. It wasn’t his voice, it was clear and rich, like the speaking voice of a talented singer.

I’m a wonderful singer. How perceptive.

The silver dragon tilted his head again, and Will was absolutely positive the voice he was suddenly hearing belonged to him.

Him, not it.

Will had been thinking of the dragons as it. They weren’t. He wasn’t sure exactly why he was suddenly so sure of that, but Tug the silver dragon was a he.

It’s because you touched me. Don’t you know anything, silly human?

Tug pushed his head forward into Will’s palm again, then turned, practically forcing Will to stroke down his neck.

He was wearing a saddle, Will noticed for the first time. A very similar saddle to the ones he’d learned to make.

“Can I ride him?”

“It’s not me you have to ask,” Old Bob and Halt said in unison, and Will took that as a yes, immediately getting a foot in the stirrup and pulling himself up. Tug was taller than his horse at Halt’s cabin, but before he could take that in, Tug jumped up and twisted, his long, thin body knotting up and making it impossible for Will to stay in the saddle. He landed on his back in the dirt and Tug looked down it him, tilting his head and blinking slowly.

That wasn’t very smart.

“You have to ask him if he minds,” Old Bob said.

Will stood up, surprising a groan.

“Do you mind?” He said out loud, and Old Bob laughed.

“Not to me, to him.”

Yeah, to me.

“Do you mind?” Will repeated, this time looking into Tug’s face.

Of course not, now that you’ve asked.

This time, when Will got up into the saddle, Tug shivered like he was getting used to the weight of him, and then stood completely still. Will was probably about six feet off the ground. The sunlight was glinting off of Tug’s bright silver scales, flashing into his eyes but not blinding him. Will gently touched the feathered crest running down Tug’s neck, marveling at how soft they were.

I’m pretty amazing, I know.

Will realized Tug could hear his thoughts, and as soon as he thought that, he heard laughter in the same tone as Tug’s voice in the back of his mind.

Get used to it. We’re connected now.

“He knows the same commands as all the dragons,” Old Bob said, stroking the head of the blue dragon that was now wrapped around his neck like a scarf.

“You learned them on the horses,” Halt added. “The trick signs. Everything basic you just need to tell him. You can say it out loud or just think it.”

We’re connected now. Everything you think, I know.

So fly. Will thought, and before he was even done think of it, Tug was in the air. His wings snapped out behind them, and they were rising through the air.

Will was overwhelmed with a feeling of joy and rightness that was coming both from Tug’s stream of consciousness and his own head. They were up high, high above the forest, nothing but trees stretching in any direction except for the clearing they’d left and the tower they’d met Old Bob in. The air up here was cold, and Will was glad for his cloak as the wind whipped around him. Will leaned low against Tug’s neck, burying his hands in the soft feathery crest.

Want to try something more exciting? Tug asked, and Will could tell his laughter was answer enough when Tug pulled his wings in and dove towards the ground, snapping his wings back open just in time for only the tips of his claws to brush the treetops.

Tug landed back in the clearing, a very definitively smug attitude filling the piece of Will’s head that no longer felt like it was quite his own, but at the same time had become inextricably a piece of him in the half-hour it had been there.

“I reckon they’re just perfect for each other, Ranger Halt.” Old Bob grinned at Will’s windswept hair as he slid down off Tug.

Of course we are. Tug said confidently, making Will laugh.

Tug’s presence in his mind had become a part of him very quickly, and he had already almost forgotten what it was like before Tug was there.

“This is Abelard,” Halt said, tilting his head at his own dragon. Abelard lowered his massive head and blinked at Will. “We’ll get home a lot faster with them.”

That was true. The walk there had taken two days, and flying back took only a couple hours. They arrived after sunset, letting the dragons land in the clearing Will used for his archery practice.

“A Ranger’s dragon is his absolute most important asset. There are men who aren’t Ranger’s who share our skill in archery. There are men who can track as well as we can, who can move almost as silently as we do, even men who use knives as well as we do. But in the entire world, there is nobody other than a Ranger who has managed to tame a dragon.” Halt taught his lesson the next day while watching Will clean Tug’s saddle. “A dragon is smarter than any human.”

Of course we are. Tug interjected.

“And he probably just rubbed that in. You’ll be able to talk to him as long as he’s close enough, and being far from him will always leave you feeling like you’re in a fight without your weapons. Dragons are big, but they know how to hide. Their senses are stronger than yours, and they’ll be able to fly reconnaissance for big missions. They aren’t horses, though. They deserve the same respect as any other member of the Ranger Corps.”

For the next month, much of Will’s training focused on Tug. He learned how to account for height and speed when shooting off Tug’s back. He learned the absolute trust required to not hold on to anything while flying. How to strap his legs into the saddle so Tug could flip and twist in the air without shaking Will off.

While learning the skills, he also got to know Tug. He was snarky and funny and kept a constant running commentary that made Will struggle to keep a straight face more than once while Halt was trying to teach him. He learned, while he and Halt were trekking across the fief, that a dragon’s wing made a very warm, dry tent to sleep under. He learned to share Tug’s eyes, to let everything Tug was hearing and seeing flood his brain so he could absorb it too.

He learned the command word that would tell Tug it was time to let his fire out, and he memorized the list of situations that Tug’s fire could be used.

There weren’t many.

Will fell asleep most nights to Tug quietly singing in his head, calm melodies in a language he had no hope of ever understanding, a language that was almost more of an emotion.

There had been a time when Will was terrified of dragons. When he’d seen Abelard for the first time, blocking out the moon with his wingspan, and when he’d seen Abelard for the second time flying away from Redmont, it had made him nervous.

Dragons were huge and powerful and dangerous, and Rangers were mysterious and scary and Will didn’t want anything to do with them.

Until he was a mysterious, scary Ranger himself, and he had a huge, powerful, dangerous dragon of his own.

Now he couldn’t imagine life any differently.

If he’d stumbled upon the Gathering before he was a Ranger’s apprentice, not that that would have been even remotely possible, he would have been too scared to do absolutely anything.

Now that he was, he’d never seen anything so beautiful. The huge field positively sparkled with dragons of every color, gliding low and lying down, tenting their wings over their napping Rangers, the sun reflecting off their scales and lighting up the field in a shimmering rainbow.

Will had been pretty sure being a Ranger was the right path for him, but looking out over the field of dragons from high in the sky on Tug’s back, he was absolutely positive.

Of course it’s right for you. I wouldn’t have let you on me if it wasn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey what's up I'm Asper and this is my first RA fic which i literally cannot believe bc i love these books so much. Will deserves a dragon and Eragon deserved better than hollywood did him and that's that on that.
> 
> please leave a comment if you have the time and literally anything to say, i thrive off of them!
> 
> also come hmu on tumblr @graybeard-halt! It's a good time!


End file.
